Author's note: Hello, friends. I will reiterate what I said in my Marrow update: apologies for my absence. These have not been easy days for me.
Secondly, I would like to update a past author's note to indicate that you can pry fake dates, bed-sharing and unnecessary wrestling from my cold dead hands.
Finally, I would like to express my endless gratitude to Moor, who beta'd this beast of an update for me. Any remaining errors are mine. Thank you, Moor. You are the real hero of this story.
VVV
Flash Point Part II
Contact May Cause Burns
Following their exchange in the closet, Ino and Deidara came to a mutual, though unspoken, agreement that bickering over idiotic things would be an excellent way to distract themselves from whatever the hell was going on between them.
So they squabbled about who would get the bathroom first and then they had a fight because Deidara wanted a midnight snack and somehow he couldn't find anything edible in any of Ino's cupboards—even if, as Ino informed him, they were chock-full of good, healthy things. He scoffed at her offering of dried cranberries and all but threw up at the mention of lentil crisps, so Ino informed him that he could chip off some drywall and eat it, for all she cared.
Then they snarked at each other about spare toothbrushes and how, look, Ino could find one within ten seconds because she actually kept her things in order, so she didn't have to go through six boxes of weaponry to find it, and wasn't that nice? And Deidara told her not to give him a moral lecture just because she was such an uptight nerd that she kept a running inventory of her spare toothbrushes in a spreadsheet or whatever the fuck, thank you.
Then they had a magnificent tiff because Deidara dared to go through Ino's dresser to look for a shirt to sleep in because it was, according to him, so damn cold in her condo. Ino slammed the drawers shut and asked him why he thought she would have random men's clothing among her belongings? And also, yes, it was cool in her condo, because she had working A/C in July, like a normal person? Deidara replied that no, it wasn't cool, it was cold, and that was obviously because Ino liked things frigid, because she was so damn frigid herself.
At this point Ino invited Deidara to go stick his head in the oven to see if that would warm him up and slammed the bathroom door in his face.
"Um, excuse me?" said Ino when she came out of the bathroom later to find a Deidara-shaped lump under her white duvet.
The lump retreated further under the duvet and pretended not to be there, though the tuft of blond hair at the head of the bed kind of gave it away.
"Hey," said Ino, poking at Deidara's foot through the covers. "You're not sleeping in my bed."
"Yeah I am," said Deidara.
"No. You're going to sleep on the sofa. Out there."
"S'too cold."
"I'll find you a spare blanket, you big baby."
"No."
Ino tugged at the duvet to find that Deidara had tucked the edges around himself and was clamping down tight. "Let go."
"No. You can go sleep on that bony thing you call a couch with your super-duper spare blanket."
"This is my bed," said Ino, clambering beside Deidara and attempting to pull the duvet off his shoulders.
One of Deidara's eyes glared bluely at her from between the sheets. "Right. So you're going to let me sleep here, just like I let you sleep in my bed for the past two nights. It's called reciprocity."
"That wasn't even a bed," said Ino, pulling at the duvet. "It doesn't count. If you want reciprocity, I can pull out my air mattress and put it on the floor. That would be reciprocity."
"No. I'm sleeping here in this comfy-ass bed with this warm-ass blanket. Goodnight."
Deidara flipped over and didn't move again, not even when Ino yelled in his ear and pulled the pillow out from under his head and, in a Deidara-ish moment, threatened to set the mattress on fire. At that point Deidara inquired, out of professional curiosity, how she intended to set the mattress on fire? And Ino said, matches, obviously, and Deidara snickered into the pillow and called her adorable, like the condescending jerk he was.
After a few more fruitless tugs at the blanket and failed attempts to kick Deidara off the bed (Ino kept pushing herself off when she tried), she resigned herself to losing this battle and having to endure Deidara's presence in her fluffy white sanctuary.
Ino slid into bed beside him, wanting to make some bitchy remark about how he'd better not have leprosy or lice or anything. However, while that kind of comment might've been appropriatea few days ago, now, having already spent two nights at his side and not contracted leprosy, she'd kind of lost the moment.
She had also spent half an hour today playing with his hair, so she damn well knew he didn't have lice—or any other grossness or diseases. On the contrary, he was clean, and fit, and he smelled good and his touches triggered a delicious sort of forbidden tension and—
Anyway, whatever, he was still an ass.
It was too warm under the duvet. Ino kicked it off herself and stared into the shadows. There were no cats or rats to distract her, here – only the distant rumble of traffic twenty floors below and, closer, the soft sounds of Deidara's breathing.
Something occurred to Ino all of a sudden. "Who's going to feed your cat?"
The incongruous question hung in the darkness, unexpected by either of them. Ino told herself she needed to double down her Deidara filter because it was supposed to shut down anything that sounded remotely like caring about anything to do with him.
She heard him shift a little, probably to stare quizzically at the back of her head, before answering. "I always leave food out for him. That's why he's fat."
"Oh." Ino adjusted the sheet around her shoulders and turned over to indicate that the matter was closed.
"...Since when do you care about the cat?"
"I don't," said Ino. "It was curiosity, not concern."
There was a sigh in the dark. "You did it again."
"Did what?"
"That thing where you make me think you might actually be, like, a decent person, until you open your mouth a second time."
Ino jerked her pillow straighter. "Tch. An ex-con doesn't get to lecture me about being a decent person."
"My rap sheet and my self are two separate things."
"That depends on who you ask," sniffed Ino.
Deidara huffed.
"What, no comeback?" asked Ino.
"You wanna know something?" came Deidara's irritated voice in the dark. "I've never met someone like you. Someone I want to smother with a pillow every thirty seconds..."
Ino was vexed enough by this to grab at her pillow and think about doing so to him. "You know what? Likewise. You're insufferable—you always think you're right."
"Me? You always think you're right. Like right now."
"Because Iam," said Ino. "Now you're getting me all wound up again. How are you so aggravating?"
"I'm aggravating?" asked Deidara with a fresh flare of temper. "Look—there you go—making me all pissy. You just—you get under my skin so bad, Jesus Christ—"
"You get under mine. Maybe I should smother you, then I'd get some actual sleep…"
"Try," said Deidara. "I promise I'll kick your skinny ass and you'll end up zip tied to your fuckin' piano, so I can get some sleep."
There was sufficient legitimacy to this threat that Ino decided not to attempt to smother him. In the last three days, she'd been zip tied to enough immovable objects to last her a lifetime. She flipped over onto her stomach and said nothing.
"What, no comeback?" came Deidara's taunting voice in the dark.
When she didn't answer, he poked at her under the sheets.
"Stop that," said Ino, smacking his hand away. "I don't want to be zip tied to the piano. Happy?"
"Yeah, actually, I am. Finally, a threat that works..."
Ino mused moodily in the dark before asking, "Do you always have zip ties on you?"
"With you around? Yeah."
"Hmph."
There was silence for a while. Ino closed her eyes, presuming that now, after their twentieth squabble that evening, they might actually get some sleep.
Deidara disabused her of that notion almost as soon as she had entertained the thought: "Hey."
"What."
"It's my turn to ask you a question."
"No it's not."
"Reciprocity. It's a concept you struggle with, I know…"
"Can the lecture," snapped Ino. "What's your stupid question?"
"It's a serious question."
"What is it?"
"It's about tonight."
"...Well?" prompted Ino, when the question didn't immediately follow.
Deidara was quiet a while longer, as though mulling over his phrasing. "At the restaurant. Did you—I mean, was it, like, your intention—to make him want you back like that?"
Ino, not having expected anything like this query, took a moment to answer. "You mean Seigo...? No. That wasn't part of the plan."
"Oh." The mattress dipped as Deidara leaned onto an elbow to look at her. "I was watching him. Watching this guy—this guy so rich he could have any chick on the planet—falling over himself for you. And you—you rejected him, like, six times, and you insulted him, and you told him to fuck off—and he kept coming back for more. I don't understand. Like, where the hell is his pride, this guy? He could have anyone? But seeing you was like—it was like you flared up some old addiction all over again."
Ino shrugged.
"Not gonna lie," said Deidara. "It was kinda scary."
"He loved—loves?—me in his own way, I suppose," said Ino. "The way the… the avaricious do. It's an acquisitive thing. It's a powerful kind of love in its own right, if not the most romantic..."
"Right. But now he's gone and lost you, so fucking stupidly. He's a bigger idiot than I thought. And tonight he saw that he's not getting you back, not for love nor money. Christ. Maybe they'll find his body under a bridge tomorrow..."
"Don't say things like that." Ino turned to face Deidara. "Anyway—at least tonight wasn't a complete loss. I walked in there 90 percent sure it was him—and I walked out knowing it wasn't. Unless he's a much better actor than I think he is, Seigo wants to buy or marry his way into my father's company, not slaughter his way in… You don't think it was him, do you?"
Deidara's shadowy silhouette shifted. "I'd say I thought it might be, so I could have an excuse to beat the truth out of him… but no. It wasn't him. He's a shit actor—he couldn't keep his twitchy little fists under control."
"Right," sighed Ino. "So we're back to square one…"
"You, on the other hand…"
"Me?"
Deidara hesitated for a moment before continuing. "Yeah. Your acting. That was… that was some serious romancing."
"Was it really?" asked Ino, with a pleased smile that she was glad Deidara couldn't see in the dark.
"Yeah." There was something of subdued awe in Deidara's voice. "I almost believed it. And I knew it was fake."
"Good. I needed to be convincing."
"You were." Deidara linked his hands behind his head. "You say Seigo's dangerous to me. But I think… I think you're more dangerous to me than he is."
"Me…? How?"
Deidara didn't answer. Ino studied his dark form beside her, perplexed. There was no way she was more dangerous than Seigo. And even if she was, they were allies, now, she and Deidara. Meanwhile, Deidara had gone and made an actual enemy out of Seigo.
As Deidara's muteness persisted under her inquisitive gaze, Ino wondered if he was still thinking about that silly soul-stealing business that had so preoccupied his drunk self... What else had she done that night that had disquieted him to this extent? The slow, under-the-table touches that both of them had enjoyed far more than they'd ever admit? The little escapade in the closet?
Or…?
"Hey," said Ino, pushing herself onto both elbows. "When's the last time you let anyone touch your hands?"
The silence that followed Ino's question was long and heavy. First she endured it with relative stoicism as she watched Deidara's unmoving profile in the dark. Then it grew too dense and she had to rustle the sheets to make some kind of noise to cut through it.
She shouldn't have asked. Why did she ask? It had been stupid to ask. If he'd wanted to say something about it, he would've said something about it. Why did she have to be so curious and obnoxious, why couldn't she let him have his secrets…
A minute passed. Perhaps he'd fallen asleep. Ino couldn't tell whether or not his eyes were open in the shadows. She turned over, resolved to let matters lie there, if that was what he wanted to do. It wasn't really any of her damn business, anyway—she should count herself fortunate he hadn't just told her to fuck off like the last time she'd inquired into affairs that weren't hers.
Ino had so convinced herself that she'd killed the conversation that Deidara's voice made her jump.
"Not since the hospital."
Ino found herself hesitating to respond. It had taken him so long to answer and the moment seemed fragile, somehow.
"So—so a while, then..."
"Yeah, a while. Five years?" There was a pause as Deidara counted. "No. Six. Six years since I OD'd on coke and blew up my hands, all in one night. Not the brightest hour of my life."
"Wh—? You actually overdosed?"
"Yeah." There was a long pause and again Ino thought that the conversation had ended. Then Deidara took a breath and continued.
"…Not on purpose. I was stupid. Thought I was immortal, like most twenty-three year olds. Got to emerg with my heart rate hitting 210 and my hands falling apart. They hooked me up to nitroglycerine—that's what they give you, when you overdose on cocaine. Did you know that? Liquid nitroglycerine, intravenously—inject it right in..."
"No… No, I didn't know that."
Deidara rested his hands on his chest and interlaced his fingers. "I remember liking that, when they told me, knowing that shit was in my blood—like yeah, I don't just make bombs, I am one now." He huffed out a dry laugh. "Still high at that point, obviously... it's a vasodilator, nitroglycerine. They stick it in you when your veins and arteries are folding into themselves ʼcause you've had enough blow to knock out a horse."
This talk of collapsing blood vessels and injections made Ino feel lightheaded. "Oh, god. Don't talk about needles. They make me queasy. I don't like this story…"
Her discomfiture seemed to amuse Deidara. "Shouldn't have asked, then. Anyway, it could've been worse, yeah? Could've been heroin, or meth—those are a bitch to OD on, and a bitch of a withdrawal, too. Coke's not bad, all things considered—only takes, like, three days for your body to eliminate..."
Deidara grew serious. "Only they don't tell you about the fucking nightmares."
"Nightmares?"
"Yeah. Vivid, horrible, constant nightmares, for those three days, so bad you're scared to fall asleep. Jesus, the things I saw..."
Part of Ino wanted to ask and part of her wanted to tell him to stop talking, because there were probably worse things than injections in this story.
"Worst part was, I thought my hands—" Here Deidara stopped, hesitated, took a breath. "I thought that was a nightmare, too. But then when the coke was out of my system and I was really awake again—I found out it wasn't a nightmare. It was real."
"Oh…"
Deidara held a hand up towards the ceiling. In the dimness of her bedroom, Ino could see that he hadn't put the gloves back on. He opened and closed his hand, a shadow against the white ceiling. His voice was almost a whisper when he spoke again. "Worst nightmare of all, you know. The one you can't wake up from."
And Ino watched the silhouette of his hand above her and felt that she was only now beginning to understand the pain of what he'd gone through.
"They did what they could," continued Deidara. "Two surgeries, stitched shit up, patched up the rest, and hoped for the best. Told me what exercises to do—the physio stuff—to keep them mobile. I was supposed to stay for like, a week… I ran away after two days. I hate hospitals."
"You shouldn't have done that..."
"Whatever. I got better. Never got back to what I was, but better than I could've been, considering. Anyway, now I have these scars to remind me of that night—that one stupid fucking mistake. I don't know what I was thinking, working while I was so high—I don't even remember who the order was for. So that's why I don't do hard shit anymore. Just booze ʼcause it takes the edge off—but I'd pass out well before I'd be able to do something this dumb again. So now I have this badge of fuckin' honour, this constant, ugly, reminder, of how much of a fucking idiot I was. Of the night I almost lost it all."
Silence fell. Deidara brought his hands back to his chest and stared at the ceiling.
"...That was a hell of a bedtime story," said Ino at length.
"Sweet dreams," said Deidara in a huff of breath that was tinged with a kind of bitter amusement.
Again there was silence. Ino thought of saying something—about how she was sorry this had happened to him, or about how he'd been so stupid but she was glad he was alright, or about the fact that she was strangely honoured that he'd shared this story with her, though she didn't understand why. But none of these things were things she wanted to say out loud because they were dumb and mushy and, and whatever, she wouldn't be saying them.
"Now you've got to tell me about some tragedy of yours," said Deidara.
"...I don't have anything remotely close to this level of tragic."
"Try."
"I really don't," said Ino. "I've had a good life."
There was a pause. Then, with a note of hesitation, Deidara asked: "What about your mom?"
Ino froze. "...What do you know about my mother?"
Deidara cleared his throat. "I, uh—might've found a couple articles when I was looking you up. When I was making sure you were actually one of the Yamanakas."
"This isn't something I talk about."
"Yeah, well, neither are my hands, so…"
"It was your decision to get all chatty about that," said Ino, a chill in her words. "Not mine. We aren't talking about my mother. She's dead. End of story."
"Jeez,don't get all pissy on me – forget I asked…"
"I will. Never ask me again."
"Okay, okay…"
Silence fell. Ino glared into the darkness and whatever sympathy she'd felt for Deidara was replaced by anger. How dare he—how dare he read up this, how dare he ask her… she didn't talk to anyone about this—certainly not to him.
Her increasingly angry musings were interrupted by Deidara: "I do like the gloves."
Ino, who had been working herself into a silent rage, was taken unawares by the unexpected admission. Which had been Deidara's intention, of course, and the moment he felt her confusion and the accompanying minute decrease in anger, he wedged his way in with more conciliation.
"They'll break in and then—then they'll be just like a second skin."
"Ew," said Ino. "Stop trying to pacify me. It doesn't suit you."
"I know. I'd much rather taunt you 'til you blow. Except right now I kinda just want to make sure you don't stab me in my sleep ʼcause I crossed a line I didn't know existed…"
Ino turned away and closed her eyes. "At this point, if I was going to kill you, it wouldn't be a stabbing."
"Oh?"
"It would definitely involve a zip tie."
"Strangulation," said Deidara into the dark as sleep finally overcame Ino. "That's comforting…"
